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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908910">Let me tempt you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsWitch/pseuds/WoodsWitch'>WoodsWitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flights of Fancy [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All the Pronouns, Communication, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley.exe has stopped working, Cunnilingus, F/M, Food Metaphors, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Helpful demonic miracles, Kissing, Lust temptations are awful, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Not all at once obviously, Other, Oysters, Post-Scene: Rome 41 AD (Good Omens), Sky-diving metaphors, Vaginal Sex, don't be weird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:16:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsWitch/pseuds/WoodsWitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flights of Fancy, part 4:</p><p>Crowley sighed. "...Yeah, even in my own head I couldn't picture crossing that line without also picturing getting smacked down for it." Then the demon grinned. "'Course...there was one loophole I came up with."<br/>The angel smiled back cautiously. "Oh?"<br/>"Yep. See, if you tempted yourself, or tempted me...well, I couldn't really be blamed for that, now could I?"</p><p>In which Aziraphale feels guilty about imagining Crowley was more into human-style sex than they actually are. Crowley explains his somewhat complicated history with all that, and why they were actively trying not to think about Aziraphale that way - but also that there was an exception.</p><p>**TW: Brief allusions to not-exactly-consensual, definitely not-fun stuff in backstory. But nothing clearly described. You can skip by going from dessert to a bit before " ~~~ " where Rome flashback starts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flights of Fancy [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Let me tempt you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>           </p><p>            It was dark outside when Aziraphale returned to the warm, paper-and-leather scented haven of the bookshop. As he set down his packages, the soft voice of Nanny Ashtoreth floated out from the depths of the back room.</p><p>"So then, pet. The next time your father remarks that your hair or your interests are sissy, or girly, what are you going to do?"</p><p>"I'll say that only a very insecure man would have a problem with being like a woman," a slightly tinny version of Warlock said, like he was repeating a lesson. "Preferably in front of mom." <a href="#ref1" id="ref1back" name="ref1back"><sup>1</sup></a></p><p>The angel smiled, and stepped quietly to the doorway.</p><p>            Crowley was sitting on one cushion of the sofa, silk-stockinged feet tucked up under her and a glass of wine in hand. Her laptop was perched on the other. "That's right, dear. You said he liked '300'?"</p><p>"Uh huh."</p><p>"Well, you might also show him that video about the ancient Spartans I sent you<a href="#ref2" id="ref2back" name="ref2back"><sup>2</sup></a>. And, speaking of videos, if he really won't behave himself, you could hint that a computer-savvy friend of yours might have access to security footage from September 20, 2017."</p><p>"Cr...<em>Nanny</em>," Aziraphale said in a warning tone.</p><p>"Oh hey, Brother Francis!<a href="#ref3" id="ref3back" name="ref3back"><sup>3</sup></a>" Warlock said cheerily, flicking his long black hair out of his eyes. "What's on the tape, Nanny? "</p><p>"Never you mind, pet. That's just for emergencies." Her red lips curled into a wicked smile. "But <em>should</em> a parental misbehavior emergency occur, you only need to say the word."</p><p>Warlock grinned. "Thanks, Nanny!"</p><p>"No trouble at all, dear. Now go do your homework."</p><p>The boy groaned loudly. "It's so dull."</p><p>"Warlock. What do we say about knowledge?" Nanny prompted crisply.</p><p>"Knowledge is power no one can take away from you," Warlock recited.</p><p>"That's right. And as for dull...well, I find that asking the right sorts of questions can make just about anything interesting."</p><p>Warlock sighed. "All right, I'll try. G'night, Nanny. Night, Brother Francis."</p><p>"Good night, dear."</p><p>            "Nanny" set the laptop down on the coffee table and swung her long legs around onto the arm of the sofa. As she did, her narrow black pencil skirt shifted into black jeans. They kept the red silk blouse with the discrete bat pattern, but shook loose their copper curls and pulled off their dark glasses.</p><p>"That's better!" Crowley exclaimed. "Nanny has impeccable style, but her skirts are not exactly comfortable."</p><p>Based on personal experience, Aziraphale didn't consider Crowley's jeans much better. But..."It is true they aren't built for lounging in."</p><p>He paused. "Are you planning on telling him?"</p><p>"Yeah, of course. But the poor lad has had a confusing and disruptive year already - he needs <em>something</em> familiar in his life. I'm working up to it with the gender expression discussions. D'ya think I should mention the demon thing at the same time, or separately?"</p><p>Aziraphale considered this. "Well, assuming he remembers the blood-and-guts lullabies, that part should actually come as less of a surprise, don't you think?"</p><p>"Mmm. Fair point," Crowley conceded.</p><p>            The demon sipped their wine. "How was your SCLT<a href="#ref4" id="ref4back" name="ref4back"><sup>4</sup></a> meeting?"</p><p>"Interesting. You know how we were talking about your garden plans, and I remarked what a shame it was that the Kensington Roof Gardens had shut down over that ridiculous rent issue<a href="#ref5" id="ref5back" name="ref5back"><sup>5</sup></a>?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Apparently, though some complicated paperwork snafu, the whole building got transferred to the Land Trust."</p><p>"Huh. Mysterious."</p><p>Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "My dear. That building isn't in Soho. Not even close."</p><p>The demon grinned at him. "Well, who says you can't expand? Just picture it: A whole building full of eccentric little co-ops and low-rent apartments and maybe a book exchange and a health clinic and a homeless youth center, right in the middle of Kensington high street?" Crowley's golden eyes sparkled, picturing the confused sputtering of the local ambassadors, politicians, and media moguls.</p><p>"It would take a miracle for such a collective to survive, let alone expand, in that environment."</p><p>Crowley's grin grew wider. "Yeah. Lucky that's not a problem, right?"</p><p>            Aziraphale hummed to himself. The idea did have merit. "We'd re-open the gardens, of course. Maybe even restore their charitable function<a href="#ref6" id="ref6back" name="ref6back"><sup>6</sup></a>."</p><p>"And the teahouse. You used to say it served the best high tea in the neighborhood."</p><p>The angel brightened. "Ah! Perhaps Janine would take it on! She's been wanting her own kitchen."</p><p>Crowley frowned. "Who's Janine?"</p><p>"Oh, only the cook at the Golden Bough who makes the desserts even you don't want to share." Aziraphale proffered the take-away bag with a smile.</p><p>Crowley's serpentine eyes sparked. "Angel! Did you get the..."</p><p>"Dark chocolate pot de creme? Of course. And the tiramisu for me<a href="#ref7" id="ref7back" name="ref7back"><sup>7</sup></a>."</p><p> </p><p>            Angel and demon sat on the sofa, legs partially intertwined, as they finished off their desserts.</p><p>Crowley's spoon scraped the last of the chocolate from the fine porcelain ramekin into which Aziraphale had miracled it<a href="#ref8" id="ref8back" name="ref8back"><sup>8</sup></a>. Unchracteristically, they actually wanted another. "Mmm. Now <em>that</em> is a proper temptation to gluttony, if I ever tasted one. Are we sure Miss Janine doesn't have any infernal connections?"</p><p>"Fairly certain, yes." Although the restaurant <em>was</em> named after an underworld travel token, so perhaps it merited a closer look.</p><p>The demon looked over at the angel, who was savoring his portion more slowly. "Do you know I used to get jealous of pastries?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"S'true." Crowley grinned at him. "I used to speculate about whether coating myself in chocolate would get you to look at me the way you did the average dessert cart."</p><p>            Aziraphale sighed. "My dear. As interesting and generally delightful as it has been to discuss these old fancies, I have to admit some of the insights have been a bit worrying."</p><p>Crowley frowned. "How do you mean?"</p><p>"Well, I was rather off base about you, in a variety of ways, wasn't I?" the angel said, looking rather dejected.</p><p>The demon shrugged. "Sure, but so was I. I mean, I was clearly picturing you as a lot more untouchable than you either <em>are</em> or imagined yourself to be, right?"</p><p>"That's what I mean! I feel rather guilty about how..." Aziraphale waved his spoon, searching for the right word. But he couldn't find one that seemed both accurate and non-insulting. "...how much the opposite of that I thought you were."</p><p>            The demon grinned. "Oh, you mean assuming I was a lot sluttier?"</p><p>Aziraphale made an unhappy noise. "You know I don't like that word. And not just that, of course, but entirely discounting that you could..."</p><p>"Angel. It's <em>fine</em>," Crowley interrupted. "We've got it sorted out now. Besides, it's not like your stories involved me throwing you over my shoulder and ravishing you against your will." Which was a small miracle, the demon reflected, given how many books the angel read, and how bizarrely often that sort of thing seemed to turn up in fiction as a positive. In fact, while Aziraphale had been widely off base concerning the demon's capacity for romantic feelings, and only slightly less wrong about their interest in human-style sex, he had somehow perfectly captured Crowley's approach to boundaries. It was reassuring, really. Consciously or not, Aziraphale <em>had </em>known them.</p><p>"Heavens, no! That would be <em>quite</em> out of character," Aziraphale agreed, sounding rather horrified at the idea.</p><p>            The demon nodded. "See? You didn't get <em>everything</em> wrong. Besides," they added with a wicked grin, "Cultivating certain assumptions was part of the demony aesthetic I was going for. I mean, slimy, seductive, sinister or some combination are the basic options, after all. Tried to avoid the first one, of course<a href="#ref9" id="ref9back" name="ref9back"><sup>9</sup></a>."</p><p>"Mmm." Aziraphale might have pointed out that the 'sinister' aspect was never very convincing, but decided not to. "Well, between that baseline and the way you used to talk, I suppose I did get an image of you as being very enthusiastic and experienced in sexual matters." He swallowed the last bite of his tiramisu, and raised his eyebrows at the demon.</p><p>"I mean, compared to <em>you</em>, I am," Crowley pointed out. "But five to nineteen <em>experiences</em> isn't really that much in the grand scheme of things, is it?"</p><p>Aziraphale's brow wrinkled. "Five to nineteen?" Maybe the demon was saying he didn't remember, but if so that seemed like an oddly specific range.</p><p>"Five when, er, we first talked about it some three thousand years ago. Nineteen being the eventual total," Crowley explained awkwardly.</p><p>The angel did some mental calculations. "So, only once every three hundred years?"</p><p>"It's not like they were evenly spaced out, but...yeah. You see why I didn't go into detail, right? Bit embarrassing."</p><p>"Well, you did say you didn't care for it much, so it is entirely understandable that you didn't seek out such experiences more often."</p><p>            The demon shrugged. "Eh, the ones I <em>did</em> seek out were OK. The ones for work, on the other hand, were...not."</p><p>Aziraphale's face paled. "<em>Oh.</em> Crowley...."</p><p>"No, no, no!" The demon interrupted that train of thought hurriedly. They took the dessert bowl out of the angel's hands and set it on the coffee table, then squeezed his fingers comfortingly. "Not <em>'not OK'</em> like that." Then they thought about it for a moment. "Er. Well, actually, sometimes like that. But not exactly? It's complicated."</p><p>Crowley took a deep breath and ran a hand through their hair. "Look, the thing you have to understand about lust as a temptation is that it's tricky. The human involved <em>has</em> to consent, otherwise it doesn't count. But if everyone's happy about it throughout, then <em>that </em>doesn't usually count either, unless it somehow hurts a third party or distracts them from some good deed. So mostly I used it like a more personal version of that thing with the cell phone towers: I'd hang about looking alluring, and let some human chat me up until they were 99% sure they were going to get what they were after. Then I'd slip off and let the resulting frustration play itself out. Which usually involved being shitty to the bartender or cabdriver, acting all chip-on-their-shoulder mean to their next date, or drowning their miseries in alcohol."</p><p>            <em>Speaking of which...</em> Crowley paused, and poured themself another glass of wine. They were going to need it.</p><p>"But sometimes I'd get specific instructions about a particular human. Now, they didn't usually say that <em>I</em> had to be directly involved but you can't always find a human you'd trust to do the job properly. And, well. Sometimes it didn't feel right to ask. Not that any of it was supposed to be <em>right</em>, of course, but..."</p><p>"...but this is <em>you </em>we're talking about," Aziraphale completed. Then he frowned. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I have to ask: <em>Why</em> didn't it feel right to involve a second human?"</p><p>Crowley let out a puff of air. "Well. A direct instruction to take someone down with lust usually meant one of two things: Either this human was some pure soul who happened to have a guilt complex about sex such that if they succumbed they'd easily spend <em>years</em> beating themselves up about it. OR they were a nasty piece of work who for some reason <em>hadn't</em> acted on their worst desires and needed the right situation to do so. At least then I didn't feel bad for the target. But, given that they were the sort to treat people as <em>things...</em>Well, I couldn't send some soft, breakable, unsuspecting human to deal with that, could I? "</p><p>            They glanced over at the angel. Aziraphale looked almost as stricken as he had when they'd first veered onto this topic. "Oh, my dear..."</p><p>The angel's lip wobbled, and it occurred to Crowley that, to anyone who <em>wasn't</em> a resident of hell, shitty choices might seem as bad or worse than no choice at all, as opposed to basically the only form of agency a demon had. At least when given a direct order - Crowley had obviously been quite skilled at creative interpretation when left to their own devices.</p><p>They wrapped their long arms around Aziraphale. "Hey, hey. It's OK. Those were just thirteen assignments, a day to a week or so each, stretched over thousands of years. I've had tons of non-lust-related assignments that carried a bigger risk or made me feel worse. Bless it, some of the things I wasn't involved in <em>at all </em>and still got credit for were more distressing. Remember how you had to practically carry me out of that tavern after I found out about the Inquisition<a href="#ref10" id="ref10back" name="ref10back"><sup>10</sup></a>? And the other six, the ones I chose for myself, those were fine. So don't feel bad about anything you were imagining, because I'm quite sure doing any of that stuff with <em>you</em> would be...well, much better than fine."</p><p>            The angel sniffed. "Really?"</p><p>Crowley smiled crookedly. "Yeah. See, initially I just wanted to see what the fuss was about. So I started with what I'd been told was the, er, standard procedure, once in each role. And that was all right. Kind of like most human foods: Not amazing, but I could see why someone might be into it, you know? Then, I suppose it was around 1400 BC, there was this fair-haired fellow who wanted to suck my cock. Well, he'd been flirting with me so prettily and asked so nicely that I said 'Sure, why not?' And that was...better, but also worse? There was this whole stew of emotions involved that hadn't been there before, and not all of them were fun. I couldn't figure out <em>why </em>until we bumped into each other in Carthage, and I realized that he'd looked kind of like you. And so then, of course, my stupid brain had to go and plaster your face all over <em>that</em> memory..."</p><p>Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. "Ah. Is that why you got flustered and ran off so quickly?"</p><p>The demon chuckled, able to see the humor now in what at the time had been an absolutely mortifying situation. "Yep. Anyway, for a while, I tried to avoid flirting with any humans who looked even remotely like you...but of course that turned into one of those 'don't think of a pink elephant' things. Eventually I tried out some other stuff. Thought I ought to get a handle on all the common variants humans had come up with, to see if I liked any of them better, and so that I wouldn't be fumbling around like an idiot if I got an actual assignment that required them. But, bless it, it didn't matter <em>what</em> the human in question looked like; if I closed my eyes, there you were. And once I had admitted to myself I was actually in love with you it felt sorta disloyal. So I gave up the recreational experiments in the tenth century. The whole lust temptation thing became a specialization about four hundred years after that. Hell finally figured out it was stupid to call up 'inconvenient questions guy' for that sort of thing when you've got people like Asmodeus on the payroll."</p><p>            The angel seemed to ponder this for a moment. "So, for the last seven hundred years..."</p><p>"Yep. Totally devoted to pining over you, Angel. Which is why I'm pretty sure you'd be my dark chocolate pot de creme in this area, as it were. "</p><p>Aziraphale blushed. "<em>Oh.</em> But...then why were you trying so hard not to think about me that way?"</p><p>Crowley snorted. "Come on, Angel, we both know I'm terrible with impulse control. Couldn't go encouraging myself like that."</p><p>"Pish posh, dear. It took <em>six thousand years</em> before I figured out what you actually wanted <em>this</em> to be," Aziraphale said, waving a hand between the two of them. "You are clearly <em>superb</em> at impulse control in this specific area. Besides, you did just say that if all parties were in agreement throughout that it didn't count as a sin."</p><p>"Yeah, for <em>humans</em>. You really think Gabriel would have reacted to you shagging me like he did to you eating sushi? 'Uggh. Gross. But whatever. Just make sure that blessings report is done on Tuesday.'"</p><p>            Aziraphale snorted at the spot-on impression of his former boss. "<em>No.</em> Nor yours, of course. That's why I...handled things as I did. But that didn't stop me speculating about 'what if things were different'." Then his face fell, remembering earlier conversations. "Oh. You didn't think I would want you, regardless. You even said you thought it would be easier for me to like you if you were human."</p><p>Crowley sighed. "I knew you <em>liked</em> me. And I wasn't <em>sure</em> you wouldn't want me. I just wasn't sure enough that you <em>did</em> to be willing to risk what we had by, you know, asking for more. Not when even friendship was something you didn't openly admit to."</p><p>Aziraphale's grey eyes looked pained again. "Oh, my dear. I am <em>so</em> sorry about that."</p><p>"'S'fine, Angel. I know why you couldn't. But...yeah, even in my own head I couldn't picture crossing that line without <em>also </em>picturing getting smacked down for it." Then the demon grinned. "'Course...there was one loophole I came up with."</p><p>The angel smiled back cautiously. "Oh?"</p><p>"Yep. See, if you tempted <em>yourself</em>, or tempted <em>me</em>...well, I couldn't really be blamed for that, now could I?"</p><p>The angel blinked at them. "You thought I might tempt <em>you</em>?"</p><p>"Well...Your words, Angel, not mine. If you'll recall."</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>           Crowley had just settled in for a drink in the Roman tavern when he heard a familiar voice call his name. Both of them, actually - Aziraphale was clearly still getting used to the new one.</p><p>"Well! Fancy running into you here!" The angel beamed at him as he pulled up a stool and searched for a topic of conversation, settling on: "Still a demon, then?"</p><p>Crowley gave him a look. <em>Seriously, angel?</em> "What kind of stupid question is that?" he said in aggrieved tone. "Still a demon... What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" He bit his tongue, but it was too late. <em>Why are you like this? He actually started talking to you</em> first<em>, for once!</em></p><p>The angel recovered quickly, though, merely inquiring pleasantly: "Are you in town long?"</p><p>"Just nipped in for a quick temptation."</p><p>            In fact, Crowley had thought he'd better take a closer look at this Caligula fellow he'd been getting credit for encouraging. What he'd found was both sordid and a rather silly - the man had apparently contemplated making his horse a consul. It wasn't much of a surprise when the Praetorian guard decided to assassinate him and set up his kinsman Claudius in his place. The fellow had been snubbed by his family for years, but seemed to have some promise as a ruler. At any rate, he could hardly be worse.</p><p>"You?"</p><p>"I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant," Aziraphale remarked. "I hear he does <em>remarkable</em> things to oysters."</p><p>Evidently the angel's enthusiasm for new culinary experiences was as strong as ever. "I've never eaten an oyster," Crowley said musingly.</p><p>            Though he wasn't looking at the angel, he could <em>feel</em> the reaction: surprise, followed by a shimmy of excitement. "Oh! Well let me <em>tempt </em>you to..."</p><p>The demon turned and raised his eyebrows questioningly.</p><p>Aziraphale blushed. "Oh, no. That's...that's your job, isn't it?"</p><p><em>You are ridiculous, and utterly adorable</em>, Crowley thought, attempting to stop a gigantic soppy grin from plastering itself all over his face and only partially succeeding. "Yep. But OK."</p><p>The angel blinked. "What?"</p><p>Crowley hopped off the bar stool. "Temptation accomplished. Let's go eat oysters."</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Back in the present, the angel's cheeks colored just as charmingly. "Oh! Yes, I see what you mean. That certainly would seem to..."</p><p>"...be perfect fodder for several millennia of fantasies?" Crowley finished. "Oh, it was, Angel. It was."</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>            He had already known that he liked watching Aziraphale taste things. No one else on the planet seemed to wring as much pleasure out of a pear or a honeyed fig or even a simple olive as this odd-ball of an angel. But this meal was a revelation. Petronius and his staff did not do things by halves. There was a salad of herbs and salty cheese, tuna steaks in garum sauce sprinkled with mint, and globuli - a soft cheese formed into balls, fried, and topped with honey - for dessert. Aziraphale savored it all, but the oysters were indeed the highlight. The waiter brought a plate of them that had been lightly cooked with bit of leek and cumin. Even Crowley had to admit that they were quite tasty, though he only ate one in favor of watching in rapt fascination as Aziraphale murmured and exclaimed and smacked his lips over the other four.</p><p>"Of course," the angel commented, "To get the full experience you really ought to try them uncooked."</p><p>Crowley was skeptical. "Really?"</p><p>"Oh, yes. Hmm. Wait a moment..." Aziraphale flagged down a waiter and, after having ascertained that the oysters were sufficiently fresh<a href="#ref11" id="ref11back" name="ref11back"><sup>11</sup></a>, persuaded him to bring them another plate raw.</p><p>            Crowley wasn't sure if this version of the mollusks was more or less appealing-looking than their cooked form. The first batch had been rather shriveled and dull in color, but were half hidden under the herbs. These, though...there was something almost indecent about the plump, glistening flesh that nestled in the pearly white cup of each shell. "Umm...So what are you supposed to do with these things?"</p><p>"Well, you can put a bit of vinegar on them, if you like - though<em> I</em> prefer them plain," Aziraphale explained. "Then you just slide a knife underneath to loosen them, and..." He tipped the shell up to his lips, and let the oyster slide into his mouth. The angel closed his eyes and made a little noise suggesting utter rapture. "Mmm. Delicious."</p><p>"Ngk. Right. Er..." Crowley blinked slowly, and stared down at his cutlery. <em>Knife. Yes. What are knives?</em> He had never seen anything that was simultaneously so innocent and so filthy, and his brain didn't know quite what to do with that.</p><p>"Here, let me show you."</p><p>And suddenly the angel was there, so close Crowley was nearly smothered in his sunlight-and-parchment scent, delicately lifting a shell to his lips.</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>"Goodness," Aziraphale breathed. His grey eyes sparkled with something like mischief. "But if you were enjoying yourself to that extent, why did you scuttle off instead of taking up my offer for a cup of wine at my <em>domus</em>?"</p><p>"Because you clearly didn't <em>mean</em> to be that tempting, and I was barely holding it together as it was! Still, I did often wonder..."</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>            One cup of wine had turned into four - on top of however many drinks before and during dinner - and the conversation had gotten a bit more personal than usual.</p><p>"Well, how come <em>you</em> never do?"</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. "I've <em>tried</em>, but it feels terribly awkward, dear boy. It's just not <em>me</em>."</p><p>"Nonsense." Crowley waved a hand over himself. The demon's red curls lengthened, then twisted themselves up into a bun bound with woolen fillets, while their chin narrowed. Their black toga morphed into a pleated <em>stola</em> with red accents, bound up by a pair of serpentine-patterned belts around their narrowing waist and just below their modestly expanded chest. Other adjustments proceeded invisibly under the voluminous garment.</p><p>"Don't tell me you couldn't pull off a look like <em>this</em>," Crowley continued. "For one thing, you'd surely manage to produce better curves. In fact, 'virtuous Roman matron' would suit you much better overall."</p><p>Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Well, it should. At least I have <em>one</em> out of the three qualifications."</p><p>Crowley stuck out her tongue at the angel.</p><p>            "Still, even if it didn't feel <em>off</em>, it's so hard to get anything <em>done</em> in that form," Aziraphale complained. "There's so many more rules, and men are always patronizing you or, or trying to pinch your bottom or something. They don't listen to you at all half the time."</p><p>"Yeah, there is that," Crowley conceded. "That's why I don't use this shape as often as I might, either. Though it <em>does</em> help that I'm not trying to be good. You can get a lot more done as a woman if you don't care about being respectable."</p><p>The angel nodded thoughtfully. "Mmm. Yes, I could see that."</p><p>"For instance, you're right: <em>this</em> outfit is pretty useless around here, unless I need to have a chat with a senator's wife or something. But <em>this</em> one..."</p><p>            She waved her hand again, and her clothing changed back into something like its original form. But the tunic was now a body-hugging red silk under the fine black wool of her toga<a href="#ref12" id="ref12back" name="ref12back"><sup>12</sup></a>. The belts were gone but she wore a golden serpent armband with a matching necklace, complementing her uncovered amber eyes perfectly. Some of her copper curls tumbled loose around her face. "What do you think, Angel?" she purred.</p><p>Aziraphale swallowed. "I see. Much more potential for mischief there, I'd imagine."</p><p>The demon grinned. "Exactly. A <em>meretrix</em> is welcome at all the best parties, and I get to be just as witty and outspoken and scandalous as I like." Not that there weren't downsides to that identity, but Crowley had plenty of practice in the art of building a reputation on almost nothing. It was her primary strategy in dealing with hell, after all. And it wasn't too hard to convince a drunk human that all sorts of things had happened which, in fact, had never occurred, even without demonic powers.</p><p>            They continued to drink, and their conversation drifted to other things: the tragic fate of Cleopatra, and the hash Roman historians seemed intent on making of her story; reminiscences of their earlier visits to Egypt, including the time Crowley assumed the identity of a protective snake goddess<a href="#ref13" id="ref13back" name="ref13back"><sup>13</sup></a>; and how Rome had embraced the taste for luxury it had once condemned in the Egyptians - far surpassing that ancient kingdom, in fact, when it came to debauchery.</p><p>"D'y know, the humans think oysters are afo..aphri...er, lust-inducing?" the demon remarked.</p><p>"Oh. Do they?" The angel looked flustered. "Whatever gave them that idea?"</p><p>Crowley considered this. "Hmm. I s'ppose it's pro'ly because they think they look, and taste, a bit like...you know."</p><p>Aziraphale blinked at her, looking confused. The demon sighed, and gestured toward the Effort currently concealed under her long skirt.</p><p>            "OH." The angel blinked a few more times, apparently processing this information. "And, um...do they? Er. Does it?"</p><p>"Does it what?"</p><p>"Taste like oysters. Or vice versa."</p><p>"Ngk." Crowley searched her memory; it had been nearly a hundred years since that experiment. "Uh...I guess? There's like a salty-savory flavor, for sure. Bit of a subtle marine quality, I s'ppose. Although, as with the oysters, too much fishiness means something is wrong."</p><p>Aziraphale's cheeks had gone quite pink. "Oh, my. That's, um, quite fascinating."</p><p>"I mean, from a purely flavor-based prisp...perspective, the oysters are better," Crowley found herself saying. <em>No! What are you doing?!</em>, her inner demon shouted at her. "Although, oysters don't rez...reciprocate," she added hastily.</p><p>"Er, what?"</p><p>"They don't respond to your...attentions. See, with a quim, if you're doing it right, it, er... you get more..." Crowley paused to riffle through the available words for what she was trying to describe. They were all vastly unappealing. She went with the most culinary-sounding option: "More, um, juices." She suppressed a wince. <em>Still awful. </em>"It also kind of...changes shape? Which is interesting to observe. And of course there is usually an enthusiastic response from the wearer of said quim, as well."</p><p>            "Well! Fancy!" Aziraphale breathed. "Do you think..." He bit off the rest of the sentence abruptly.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>The angel flushed deeper, and shook his head. "N'vr mind. It was really quite an indab...inappropriate question."</p><p>Crowley grinned. "Inappropriate questions are kind of my thing, Angel. Ask away."</p><p>"Um. Well. I was going to ask - and, really, feel free t' tell me off if this is offensive or, or over the line or any such thing - could I...try? With, with you, I mean."</p><p>"Nrrghgk." Crowley swallowed. "Yeah. I mean, that'd be fine by me," the demon said, in the understatement of the millennium. Well, sort of. Leaping straight to <em>that </em>wouldn't exactly be her first choice, but it was loads better than sitting several feet apart, as usual. "But...are y' sure?"</p><p>The angel bit his lip, and nodded slowly. "I, I think so. I find myself very much wanting to, to taste you. You do smell quite nice just...ordinarily. And, well, with a human such a thing would be des..dig..discouraged. Too close to a temptation, y'see. Wh'ch's <em>your</em> job, as we said. But I can't see that it'd do any harm if it were just <em>us</em>. Viewing it as a...a sort'v experiment, you know. For knowledge. Of earth things."</p><p>            Crowley nodded slowly. "Er, right. Well, um, well reasoned there. Still, maybe you should sober up a bit?" <em>Damn it! Why?,</em> her inner demon howled, but Crowley ignored her and added: "You know. Wouldn't, um, want t' see you embarrassed. If you, er, changed your mind, tomorrow."</p><p>Because, much as she ached for the angel to touch her, it wouldn't be worth it if he regretted this and decided not to talk to her for the next two centuries. Or possibly ever.</p><p>They concentrated, flushing the alcohol out of their bloodstreams. Crowley decided to stop halfway. Regardless of how things went after this, being 100% sober for it did not seem like a good idea. Sober Crowley would not handle either option well at all.</p><p>            Aziraphale made a face - the sobering-up process always felt a bit weird and left a furry taste in the mouth - then looked suddenly mortified as he met Crowley's eye. "Oh, goodness! I'm terribly sorry, my dear. I'm afraid I've made a bit of a fool of myself."</p><p>"No, no. Not at all," Crowley said hurriedly. There was an awkward pause. "So. Uh. Did you change your mind, or did you still want to...?"</p><p>The angel looked uncertain, but Crowley couldn't help noticing that he licked his lips slightly. "Well. Er. If it isn't an imposition..."</p><p><em>I'd rather you kissed me. I'd rather you wrapped your arms around me and told me you never want to be anywhere but by my side for the rest of time. But since </em>that's<em> obviously not going to happen...</em></p><p>"Yeah, no, that's fine, Angel. Go for it."</p><p>            Crowley leaned back as the angel approached the foot of her couch, trying not to panic. Just the sight of Aziraphale kneeling in front of her as if she was some holy icon, the mere brush of his hand against her leg as he lifted the skirt of her toga, made her feel like she might faint. <em>Keep it together, for Satan's sake! What kind of sorry excuse for a demon are you? </em>Crowley took a deep breath, and hiked up her scarlet tunic a bit. She definitely wanted to be able to see this.</p><p>            "Goodness." Aziraphale had leaned in close enough that his breath when he spoke rustled through the thicket of tight copper curls in a way that made her shiver. "So, er, do I just..."</p><p>He gave a cautious lick and Crowley nearly shrieked. She coughed. "Er, yeah. That...that nub there is very sensitive. Almost a little too much, sometimes. But, um, you can put like the base of your thumb there if you want to aaahhghhmm." This temporary suspension of her ability to speak had been caused by Aziraphale following this advice and immediately, apparently instinctively, diving lower to lick deeply into her cleft.</p><p>"Holy fuck." <em>Literally.</em> Crowley could feel the angel's tongue <em>inside</em>, lapping at her walls with every evidence of enthusiasm, as the base of his thumb pressed and rocked gently against her clit. "Yeah, just like that, Angel," she groaned.</p><p>            This was better than she remembered - probably because it was <em>him</em>. Certainly what might have been a series of rather unappealing slurping noises became far more attractive when they brought to mind Aziraphale licking pear juice off his fingers or sucking a fresh oyster from its shell. Crowley gripped the edges of the couch, trying to suppress the urge to run her hands through those silver curls that bobbed tantalizingly between her legs. Although...perhaps she was allowed to touch back, at least a little? Tentatively, she reached out, letting her legs fall open a bit further as she did. When her fingers sank into the angel's hair he moaned slightly but did not stop. If anything, the demon's hand gripping his celestial locks only seemed to urge him on to greater efforts. A tremor ran through her, radiating from that slit the angel was so zealously devouring to the tip of every finger and toe. "Fuck. <em>Angel</em>."</p><p>            The twitching and panting drew Aziraphale's attention, and he raised his head. "Are you all right?"</p><p>Crowley laughed shakily. "Uh, yeah. More than all right."</p><p>There was something dark and heated in the angel's eyes as he gazed up at her. "Oh, my dear...You look so beautifully debauched right now. Just the picture of temptation."</p><p>The demon swallowed. "Um, thanks? I try. Er. I don't mean I'm trying <em>right now</em>. Just...generally, y' know."</p><p>The angel, apparently not noticing the nervous dithering around the idea of <em>temptation</em>, hummed happily to himself. "You are absolutely delicious. In fact, I find myself wishing...."Aziraphale trailed off.</p><p>"What, Angel?" Crowley prompted quietly.</p><p>"Wishing I could see, and taste, all of you. But..."</p><p>            That caveat was never heard, because as soon as the wish was voiced Crowley snapped her fingers and all her clothing, save for her sandals and snake-themed jewelry, vanished into the ether.</p><p>"<em>Oh.</em> Oh, look at you, you delectable thing," Aziraphale breathed, devouring her with his eyes before bending to press a kiss into the crease of her thigh.</p><p>For whatever reason, an angel's touch did not burn demonic flesh like so many things blessed merely by silly human words - not unless the angel wanted it to. But all the same the touch of Aziraphale's fingers and mouth as he explored Crowley's body were like fire. Her skin remembered and reacted to every kiss, every lick, every caress for minutes after it had passed. The angel moved slowly, almost worshipfully, upward. For a second, as he reached her breasts, Crowley felt a pang of anxiety. Unlike Aziraphale, with his invitingly soft form, she had always been skinny, verging on scrawny, and - by the standards of many humans, at least - a bit inadequate in the bosom department when in female form. But...</p><p>"Perfect," Aziraphale whispered, smiling at her, and she felt strangely proud of the way her left breast precisely matched the cup of his hand. He bent his head, and she arched and cried out as he sucked most of the other into his mouth.</p><p>            Crowley had spoken very little for quite some time, mindful of the embarrassing, possibly disastrous words that threatened to spill out: <em>I want you. I need you. God and Satan damn it, I need you to kiss me right now and never ever stop. Don't ever leave me. My angel. My light.</em></p><p>Aziraphale, though, while his mouth had largely been occupied with other things, had hardly ceased uttering words of astonishment, delight, and disarming fondness every time he paused for breath: "Remarkable", "Marvelous", "Oh, <em>heavens</em>, Crowley", "You are <em>scrumptious</em>, my dear". Or, as he was currently panting into the hollow of her neck, his breath warm on skin still damp and sensitive from his recent attentions: "Oh, you <em>wicked</em> thing!"</p><p>That choice of words could have meant many things, but there was such warmth and affection in the way the angel said it that Crowley couldn't help but glow with pride. <em>That's right.</em> Your <em>wicked thing if you'll have me, Angel. Always.</em></p><p>She turned her face toward the angel, lips parting slightly, hoping he would take the hint. He did, kissing her hungrily, deeper than she'd ever been kissed before. Not that anything else could compare. Crowley wondered vaguely if it was possible to spontaneously combust just from this.</p><p>            Somehow, through the haze of <em>yes</em> and <em>more</em> that was basically all her brain was capable of generating while finally, <em>finally</em> getting to kiss Aziraphale properly, the way she had wanted to do for millennia, it came to Crowley's attention that the angel had made an Effort. She wasn't sure if that was usual for him, but it made sense; with all the semi-public bathing that went on in Rome, humans would have been bound to notice if he didn't. Apparently it was not entirely decorative, either.</p><p>"You can, if you want, Angel," Crowley whispered, pressing her hips up against him to show what she meant.</p><p>"Oh, I, I feel I've probably taken far too many liberties as it is..." Aziraphale stammered.</p><p>The demon kissed him again, before murmuring into his ear: "I thought you would have known by now, Angel: There's nothing you might want that I would deny you."</p><p>            Aziraphale groaned and ground up against her in wordless answer. Crowley grinned, and slipped her hand under his tunic to find his stiffened cock. The angel whimpered as her fingers closed around it - not terribly long, but ample as the rest of him. She guided the tip to glide up and down a few times along her slit, stroking her clit and gliding against the flushed and moistened folds. Then she tilted her hips to let him slide into her in one desperate, instinctive thrust.</p><p>"<em>Crowley</em>," the angel moaned, almost despairingly.</p><p>"Let go, Angel," she whispered. "Listen to your body - it clearly knows what to do. I've got you."</p><p>Aziraphale nodded, and began to move.</p><p>            Crowley wrapped her long legs around the angel's thrusting hips, twined the fingers of her left hand once again in those soft silver curls as he gasped and panted increasingly incoherent words of wonder into the curve of her neck. The fingers of her right hand traced over Aziraphale's sturdy shoulders, the broad span of his back, the soft curve of his bottom. Tomorrow they would be Adversaries again. And who knew if this meant for him anything close to what it meant for her? But for now she had her angel in her arms, warm and soft and <em>wanting her</em>. And she would be twice damned if she didn't appreciate every detail.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>            "Hmm. That was...quite the thing," Aziraphale said, after the story was done. "Not sure that counts as zero tempting on your part, mind you."</p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Well...you can't expect me not to picture <em>encouraging</em> you a bit. Just needed to picture you taking the lead."</p><p>There was a longish pause, before the angel spoke again. "Seeing as we did apparently both consider it...<em>did</em> you actually want to, er, try it the human way?"</p><p>Crowley looked thoughtful, like they were trying to find the right words.</p><p>"Have you ever considered going sky diving?" they said at last, apparently at random.</p><p>Aziraphale's brow wrinkled. "What?"</p><p>"Sky diving," the demon repeated. "Would you want to do it?"</p><p>"I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"</p><p>Crowley picked up their wine glass and shrugged. "Well, the humans seem to find it quite exciting. The rush of the air making them feel like they're flying, coupled with a bit of the fear of death."</p><p>The angel was looking more confused by the second. "But, my dear, we're immortal. And although getting discorporated would be even more awkward these days than it used to be, we can <em>actually</em> <em>fly</em>."</p><p>The demon raised their eyebrows significantly.</p><p>"Oh. I see your point."</p><p>Crowley nodded. "'Xactly. Not writing it off. I'm all for a bit of variety, as you know. Just doesn't seem necessary. But, like I said - You've always been able to tempt me. And there's nothing I wouldn't give you, if you asked."</p><p>Aziraphale smiled. He'd long suspected as much, and had always tried to be careful not to abuse that power. "Well. I shall certainly bear that in mind."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>_________________________</p><p><a id="ref1" name="ref1"></a>1. The week of the Apocawhoops had been extremely confusing for Warlock Dowling. First he had been dragged out to some boring desert to meet a smelly weirdo who kept going on about a dog and his Master and someone named 'Crowley'. The security guys had hustled his family back into the car when the guy started biting his own hand and screaming, but no sooner had they returned to England than Mr. Dowling announced they were moving back to America. There had been no time to say goodbye to anyone, and his parents were fighting more than ever, so when nine months later he suddenly got a text from 'N. Ashtoreth', Warlock had been happier than he liked to admit. They had settled into a routine of after-school video chats on Wednesdays. <a href="#ref1back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref2" name="ref2"></a>2. Besides pointing out <em>the one fact</em> <em>everyone knows</em> <em>about Ancient Greece </em>that '300' and a lot of its fans nevertheless seem to forget, said video also noted the passage in Herodotus where a spy reports to Xerxes that the Spartans are preparing for the battle by having their hair done. Xerxes thinks this is really silly and effeminate - until the Spartans start kicking his army's ass. <a href="#ref2back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref3" name="ref3"></a>3. Brother Francis and Nanny apparently now ran a bookshop, which was a bit random, and the gardener seemed to have gotten himself a makeover. But it was definitely him. <a href="#ref3back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref4" name="ref4"></a>4. Soho Community Land Trust. (See 'A price to pay'). <a href="#ref4back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref5" name="ref5"></a>5. The Kensington Roof Gardens opened in 1938 on top of the Derry and Tom's department store. They cover 6,000 square meters and include an Alhambra-inspired part, a Tudor garden, and a water garden with dozens of species of trees and resident flamingos. The gardens were open to the public until 2018, when (billionaire!) Richard Branson decided he couldn't pay the lease anymore. However, the gardens have probably been maintained, as the trees were put under a preservation order in 1976, and there were hints of a new leaseholder planning to re-open in 2020. <a href="#ref5back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref6" name="ref6"></a>6. The original one-shilling entrance fee raised £120,000 for local hospitals between 1938 and 1968. <a href="#ref6back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref7" name="ref7"></a>7. Both of which had, thanks to a minor miracle, remained perfectly chilled through the two hour neighborhood meeting. <a href="#ref7back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref8" name="ref8"></a>8. Having also provided a matching bowl for his own confection. The angel had <em>standards</em>, after all, and it would have been an insult to Janine's creations to eat them out of take-away containers.<a href="#ref8back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref9" name="ref9"></a>9. Not all demons did, of course. Hastur and Ligur favored slimy AND sinister. Some tried for slimy and seductive, but that's a hard look to pull off. <a href="#ref9back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref10" name="ref10"></a>10. Those lust temptation assignments had generally been followed by some pretty heavy drinking as well, and/or aggressive bathing. But a few hundred years to process things had made those memories more all right than, say, the ones that triggered the "Is every horrible thing the humans do ultimately my fault?" thought. <a href="#ref10back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref11" name="ref11"></a>11. At least for immortal beings immune to all earthly diseases. <a href="#ref11back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref12" name="ref12"></a>12. While Roman respectable women were expected to wear the <em>stola</em>, prostitutes - especially the higher ranking call-girls known as <em>meretrices</em> - often wore the otherwise male toga: a gender-bending touch that Crowley found highly entertaining.<a href="#ref12back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref13" name="ref13"></a>13. See "Warning Coloration"<a href="#ref13back">Back</a></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So that ended up involving some wide swings in tone and topic...</p><p>
But I wanted to show post-Apocawhoops Crowley getting to be mischievously good, and the pair of them having lives that don't require being joined at the hip 24/7.</p>
<p>
On the less fun side, of course, it seemed like they would have a chat at some point about Crowley's "slither and come hither" vibe (as another author called it) and why it is a bit misleading. Which then would require talking about the lust temptations. While I can totally see Crowley flirtatiously sowing frustration, envy, jealousy, and general mayhem, I really can't picture direct assignments of that nature being anything other than terrible. After all, if they were fun, that would imply sex itself being sinful; I prefer the Granny Weatherwax definition of sin as beginning with treating other people as things. Crowley's still kind of in the mindset that it can't properly count as non-consensual for him if he's the one setting up the scenario. Given that he wouldn't be there at all without hell demanding that <em>something </em> of the kind happen <em>or else</em>, however...it probably does. But choice has always been important to Crowley, and picking the least-evil/actually-self-sacrificing option (even when personally unpleasant) would probably provide some psychological balm.</p>
<p>
Hopefully the fact that they get to pivot to some more pleasant thoughts in the second half made that bit worth getting through.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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